


Glass Houses

by aretia



Series: Bureaucratic Holiday Gifts [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animals, Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack, Fish, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aretia/pseuds/aretia
Summary: Everyone who had agreed to share a suite on campus with “Greasy” Johnson knew that they would eventually be responsible for harboring illicit tropical fish. They just didn’t expect them to be some of the strangest fish they had ever met.In which Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, and Gabriel are all betta fish kept by college students Greasy Johnson and the Them, and shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: Bureaucratic Holiday Gifts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034811
Comments: 25
Kudos: 58





	Glass Houses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [summerofspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/gifts).



> Summerofspock, our fearless leader! You are one of the most prolific writers I have ever seen, and I am honored to know you. Also, it is your birthday! Was your birthday? You had a birthday recently, so congratulations on another year of existence to one of the most awesome people on the planet. 
> 
> Lots of your works have been hugely significant in the fandom, but the one that was the most influential to me personally was [Polar Opposites.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23129164/chapters/55345507) That showed me that you really can just write whatever makes you happy. So that’s what this is. I hope it makes you happy too.

Everyone who had agreed to share a suite on campus with “Greasy” Johnson knew that they would eventually be responsible for harboring illicit tropical fish. They just didn’t expect him to bring one on the first day of school. His suitemates gathered around the newly set up fish tank, on top of a wooden shelf in the common room which most college students would probably have used as a bar, and watched the betta fish swim around inside it. 

“Isn’t he beautiful?” said Johnson. The fish in question was a veiltail betta with lustrous crimson scales, and fins that trailed behind him like long, wavy hair. “He was all sad and droopy when I found him in one of those awful fishbowls in the pet shop. I just had to rescue him. Look how happy he is now!”

“What’s his name?” asked Wensleydale.

“Crowley,” said Johnson. “Anthony J. Crowley.”

“That’s a weird name for a fish,” commented Brian. “Where did you get that from?”

“I dunno. I read it in a book somewhere, I think,” Johnson replied. 

“I like it,” declared Adam with finality. He had named his dog “Dog,” so his friends all regarded him as the authority on pet names. 

“Actually, we aren’t allowed to keep pets in the dorms, are we?” piped up Wensleydale.

“We are definitely not,” admitted Johnson. “But I couldn’t just leave him at home with my parents. I’m taking him to a competition in October, and I need to make sure that he’s well taken care of until then.”

“Well,  _ I’m _ not getting into trouble just because  _ you _ couldn’t follow the rules about pets,” huffed Pepper. 

“Yeah. I had to leave Dog at home, so it doesn’t seem fair that you get a pet,” Adam added. His tone pulled the tension in the room tight as a bowstring.

“Wait. I think you’ll like him. Betta fish are really smart,” said Johnson. “Look, I even got him to do a trick! Watch this.” He held a hoop above the surface of the water. Crowley swam to the surface curiously, and positioned himself under Johnson’s hand. Then, when Johnson curled his finger up towards the hoop, Crowley turned his body to the side and jumped through it. Johnson’s friends were so amazed that he actually did it that they clapped.

“All right, you’re a pretty cool fish,” said Pepper. “You can stay.”

***

It quickly became clear to the rest of the suitemates that Johnson wasn’t going to stop at one betta fish. By the second week of school, another fish tank had appeared next to Crowley’s. This one was empty, aside from the aquatic plants and marimo moss balls, but Johnson said that he was getting it set up in case he needed to rescue another betta fish from the horrors of the pet store. 

That moment came on a Sunday night when most of the gang was gathered in the common room studying. Johnson burst through the door of the suite, triumphantly carrying a fishbowl aloft like it was the head of Medusa.

“You won’t believe what a beautiful fish I found at the pet store,” he said, holding the bowl out. His friends momentarily looked up from their books and laptops. “Everyone, meet Aziraphale.”

The new betta fish was larger than Crowley, cream-white all over, and had round half-moon fins that fanned out around his body, fluttering nervously under all the attention. Johnson carried the bowl over to the corner with the fish tanks. He didn’t realize at first that he had an audience other than the human one. Crowley stared out the glass wall of his tank, transfixed by the appearance of another fish. “Oh, sorry, Crowley!” Johnson said, angling his body so that Aziraphale was shielded from Crowley’s view. 

“What are you doing?” asked Brian. 

“Male betta fish get agitated when they see another betta. All they want to do is fight all the time. They’re hereditary enemies,” Johnson explained. 

He dipped the fishbowl into the empty tank, releasing Aziraphale into the water. Then, he picked up a piece of cardboard, and slid it between the two tanks. “There you go,” he said, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone to both of the fish. “Now you won’t ever have to think about each other again.”

***

Johnson liked to think of himself as a good fishkeeper. So it was a mystery to him when his two prized betta fish started to act as stressed as the students heading into their midterms. 

Crowley was attempting to fight the plants in his tank, flaring his fins and nipping at the leaves. He spent the rest of his time dramatically draping himself over them. As if that wasn’t enough trouble, Aziraphale wasn’t even eating his food flakes. Johnson figured that Aziraphale had refined taste, so he started feeding him bloodworm treats and managed to get him to eat for a little while, until he lost interest in those too. Either Aziraphale was the most picky betta fish in existence, or something was bothering him.

Johnson was so worried about them that it distracted him even when he was supposed to be paying attention to his history seminar. It was a small class, so he tried to be as subtle as possible when he pulled out his phone under his desk, and shot a text to Wensleydale, who he knew had a free period.  _ I’m stuck in class, can you check on Crowley for me? _

He watched the typing bubble for a few tense minutes, and what popped up made him feel like his chair had just dropped out from under him.  _ He’s not in his tank. _ Followed by an image of a verdant tank, empty of a certain red fish.

“My fish!” Johnson shouted, springing up from his desk. When the professor and most of the class gave him confused stares, he blurted out, “…Is… burning. I left some salmon in the oven. I have to go.” He grabbed his backpack and jacket and fled the classroom. 

He barged through the door of the suite, interrupting Brian, who was sitting on a beanbag chair and eating a popsicle. He dropped the popsicle onto his shirt when the noise of the door slamming startled him, then nonchalantly picked it back up and continued eating it. Brian didn’t have a free period, but was known to skip class whenever he felt like it. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I came as soon as I got the text,” Johnson panted. “But I think my history professor suspects that I’m keeping fish in my dorm now.”

“You know, I don’t think professors can actually do anything about students breaking the rules in the dorms,” pointed out Wensleydale helpfully. 

“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Where is he? A fish can’t just walk-- _ swim _ \--off,” Johnson sputtered. Then, he spotted a flurry of movement through the foliage in the tank adjacent to Crowley’s, a shimmer of pearly white and a flash of red. 

“He’s in Aziraphale’s tank!” Johnson screamed. “I knew I never should have taught him how to jump!” He grabbed a fish net from the cabinet above the counter, plunged it into the water, and scooped up Crowley, then released him back into his own tank. 

“I don’t think you needed to race all the way back from class for that,” said Brian. “They’ve been like that for the past half hour and neither of them have killed each other yet.”

“Aziraphale is delicate! Crowley could tear him to shreds!” Johnson said. He glanced over at the red betta, who seemed to be glaring at him. “Not that you  _ would _ do that, Crowley--but I don’t understand why he’s making so much trouble, jumping out of his tank and terrorizing the other fish!”

“Maybe he’s lonely,” said Adam, who had just gotten back from class, and walked in on the tableau of his unhinged suitemate standing in the common room with his hand dripping with fish tank water. “Maybe you should get him a fish friend.”

Johnson rubbed his chin with the hand that was still covered in fish tank water. “It would have to be a female fish, because the males will fight if you put them together. But I can give it a try.”

***

Pepper walked into the suite common room to find Johnson crouched in front of Crowley’s tank, staring at it in consternation. “Dare I ask what’s got you worked up this time?” she said, walking over to perch on the arm of the couch next to him. 

“The online ad said this was a female betta fish,” muttered Johnson. “But male betta fish are supposed to be the ones with the fancy fins. That doesn’t look like a female to me.”

The fish he was pointing at was smaller than Crowley, but just as flashy. The scales on their body were black, but their crown-tail and fins were mostly scarlet with black streaks radiating out from their body. They sat moodily in a corner on the opposite end of the tank from Crowley.

“You’re being gender essentialist about a fish?” said Pepper disapprovingly. “Maybe your fish is nonbinary.”

“Maybe. Well, either way, I don’t think getting a friend for Crowley is working. He and the new fish mostly avoid each other, and he still jumps into Aziraphale’s tank every day,” Johnson sighed. “I don’t know what to do to make them happy.”

“Don’t ask me. You’re the fish expert,” said Pepper, standing up and making her way to her room.

“Wait. What do you think I should name them?” Johnson asked.

“How about Beelzebub?” said Pepper. “That’s a nice, gender-neutral name.”

If there was any sarcasm in Pepper’s voice, Johnson didn’t pick up on it. He turned back to the tank. “Beelzebub it is, then.”

***

“We’re going to have to hold an intervention for you if you keep buying new fish,” said Adam, looking up from his notebook when Johnson walked into the room with yet another fishbowl perched in his hand.

“I didn’t buy this one,” Johnson said, getting defensive about the wrong part of the accusation. “This one belonged to my friend Sandy, before he had to drop out and gave him to me for safekeeping. He was a weird religious kid, so I didn’t pick the name this time, but this is Gabriel!”

The fish he presented to them was the largest and most flamboyant yet, with long blue fins and iridescent scales on his body that shimmered in colors from turquoise to indigo to almost purple. He swam around so that his scales caught the light, almost like he was seeking attention. The group didn’t give it to him, having decided that whatever they were studying was more interesting than Johnson’s latest acquisition.

“Where are you going to put him? You only have two tanks,” Pepper said.

“Actually, I have three,” said Johnson, walking over to the windowsill, where a smaller fish tank was perched. “I got Beelzebub their own tank, since they didn’t seem to get along with Crowley. They can share it for now.” He still had a hunch that Beelzebub was the least aggressive compared to the other two, even though he still couldn’t tell what gender they were and at this point didn’t particularly care.

His hunch was immediately proven wrong. When he released Gabriel into the tank, the sight of him to Beelzebub was like a matador’s red cape to a bull. They swam over, flared their fins at him, and then nipped at his magnificent tail. He flared back in an attempt to appear bigger, but the other fish who was half his size was not deterred in the slightest, and began to chase him around the tank.

“Beelzebub, no! Bad fish! That’s it, you’re going back into Crowley’s tank. Someone get me the fish net!” he yelled, with all the authority of a doctor in a medical drama calling for a scalpel. Sure enough, Wensleydale got up from his bean bag chair, grabbed the fish net from the cabinet, and deposited the handle in Johnson’s hand.

“Thank you,” Johnson said. “Now come here, you little demon spawn of a fish.” He stuck the net into the water and chased Beelzebub around the tank, but once he finally had it around them, they pushed against it with an unexpected burst of power for a betta, and pulled the net right out of his hand. 

“Did that fish just steal your net?” Pepper crowed, with a mixture of awe and laughter. “What are they going to do with it, make it into a pair of fishnet stockings?”

“Fine, if you like that net so much, you can keep it!” Johnson said. “Between you and Crowley, it’s like none of my fish know how to behave.”

He heard a suspicious splash behind him, coming from the direction of the other two fish tanks.

“Johnson… Crowley is…” Wensleydale said nervously.

Johnson turned around, and fear curled in his stomach. In Aziraphale’s tank, Aziraphale and Crowley were circling around each other in what looked to be the beginnings of a deadly battle. “Crap. Now I really need that fish net back,” he muttered. He reached his hand into Beelzebub’s tank, but when he curled his fingers around the handle, Gabriel bit his palm. 

Johnson flinched and pulled his hand back, more out of shock than pain. It was just a pinch, but he didn’t understand why Gabriel would do that. 

“Guess I’m going to have to do this without a fish net,” he said. “Stand back.” He rolled up his sleeves and marched across the room, and plunged his hands into the tank. 

Betta fish were slippery little things. He thought he had Crowley cornered against the wall, but then at the last second, Crowley swam to the back of the tank. When Johnson reached over the tank to catch him, he stumbled and lost his balance. He leaned on his other arm to catch himself, the arm that was already in the tank.

Several things happened at once. Crowley jumped a foot into the air over Johnson’s head. The plank of wood that served as a shelf gave an ominous crack, and snapped in half. The two fish tanks on top of it came crashing to the floor and shattered. And everyone in the suite started screaming. 

“Whoa, did you see how high that fish just jumped?” called Brian.

“Did you seriously just knock over the fish tanks?!” said Pepper.

“Get them back in the water!” yelled Wensleydale.

“I’m trying! I can’t find them!” Johnson screamed.

“Everybody shut up!” Adam shouted. When Adam said something like that, the whole room went still, even the fish. “Someone’s coming.”

Water from the spilled fish tanks was already seeping through the gap beneath the door. A key turned in the lock, which could only mean one thing, since the suitemates were all inside the common room. The door swung open to reveal the dorm’s resident assistant, a student whom they only knew as RA Tyler. 

He pulled a notepad out of his front jacket pocket, and  _ tsk _ ed at them. “How disappointing. I thought you lot were the most law-abiding students in this hall. So as I’m sure you all know,” Tyler said darkly, “no pets allowed in the dorms.”

***

Everyone who had agreed to share a suite on campus with “Greasy” Johnson knew that they would eventually be responsible for harboring illicit tropical fish. They just didn’t expect to get so attached to them that they would go to his house over fall break to visit the very fish that had caused them so much trouble.

After RA Tyler wrote up their whole suite for having pets, Johnson was forced to take the betta fish back home. He had a huge fifty-gallon tank there, with enough room for all four of the fish. He hoped that they wouldn’t fight too much if he put the group of them together. 

He didn’t have to worry about Aziraphale and Crowley fighting, at least. That fateful day when he knocked the tanks over, Johnson had found them huddled together on the flooded floor. Aziraphale’s tail fin was draped over Crowley’s body, as if he were protecting him, keeping his gills moistened so that he could breathe. Johnson picked them both up and placed them in Beelzebub and Gabriel’s tank as a temporary measure, and decided in that moment that it was pointless to ever try and separate them again.

As soon as they were in a tank together, Aziraphale and Crowley were truly inseparable. They followed each other around the tank all day, and seemed as happy as it was possible for two fish to be. Crowley stopped flaring at the plants, Aziraphale went back to eating his food, and Crowley never jumped out of the tank again. 

Beelzebub and Gabriel’s relationship was more complicated. The small, androgynous fish had singled out Gabriel as the target of their bullying, but when Johnson put Gabriel in a separate tank to let him recover, both he and Beelzebub sulked about the separation. Baffled, Johnson moved Gabriel back into the same tank, and he brightened up immediately, showing off his fins even when Beelzebub nipped at him. He even seemed to intentionally annoy them in order to provoke them into chasing him. It was not normal, and probably not very healthy by betta fish standards, but Johnson was doing the best he could with what he had.

Johnson and his suitemates watched Aziraphale and Crowley, who were circling around one of the plants together, like they were going for a leisurely walk in the park.

“So they like each other now?” Pepper asked. 

“I think they always did,” said Adam, with that air of wisdom that made everyone believe him without question.

“Yeah, remember how Crowley was always trying to jump into Aziraphale’s tank?” said Brian with a laugh, as if any of them could forget.

“Can fish be gay?” asked Wensleydale.

“Hell if I know,” said Johnson. “All that matters is they’re happy.”

And they were. All the fish seemed much happier than they had been in separate tanks in the dorm. It made Johnson question everything he knew about keeping bettas. These were some strange fish he had, indeed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Are they real betta fish, or are they supernatural beings temporarily inhabiting the forms of betta fish? No one knows. But one thing is for sure, this is not intended as a portrayal of responsible betta keeping.


End file.
